


Injured

by aconfederacyofscript



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconfederacyofscript/pseuds/aconfederacyofscript





	Injured

"Jemma!" 

Skye’s heartbreaking scream echoes over the now empty floor. Flickering lights hang from the ceiling, where once were walls are now sheets of plastic, and a loose electric wire splutters in the background.

It had to be a simple extraction. That was the plan. Coulson had assured them they would be fine. It was supposed to be a simple mission. In and out. Retrieve the 0-8-4. The object of unknown origin. But it wasn’t.

“Jemma, no! Anyone! Help!” Skye whimpers when a flash of pain ruptures through her chest, but she knows it’s not because she’s hurt physically. They are on their way. 

There’s a faint smile on Jemma’s face when her eyes lock with Skye’s. She looks serene, angelic almost, in the few seconds that feel like an eternity. The seconds that make Skye feel weak in her knees and make Jemma’s knees actually buckle.

It’s a rough crash on the floorboards when Jemma’s body hits. A dull thud. A soft groan. A deep breath. 

Skye’s feet feel like jelly when she locks her rifle and swings it onto her back. Her heart pounds in her ears. 

“Jemma, it’s okay. I’m here. Stay with me, baby, stay with me. Tell me what I need to do,” Skye whispers, blinking tears out of her eyes when she carefully draws the tiny scientist into her lap. 

Blood is coming through the fabric of her gear, a bullet hit her right below her vest. Instinctively Skye presses her hand onto the wound, the liquid seeping between her fingers. She swallows hard. She needs something, anything to stop the bleeding. 

Jemma coughs and cries. “It hurts, Skye.” 

“I know, honey. I know. Stay with me. Breathe carefully. Can you do that for me, please, Jemma?” Skye’s voice breaks at the last syllable of her name, but she grinds her jaws together and sucks air in through her nose. 

“Skye.” 

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re going to be fine. Hold your hand here for two seconds and press hard.” 

She moves Jemma’s hand under hers and takes off her gun and own Kevlar.

“You should keep that on.” 

“Shh. You should apply pressure, silly.” 

She puts both the items aside and takes off her shirt and top before slipping on the Kevlar again. She shivers.

“Here, you did great. Let me.” 

She presses one quarter of her tank top to the wound and presses down, folding it in half and halfs to quarters when blood is still coming through and finally adding her shirt.

Jemma rests her hand atop Skye’s when it shakes slightly. The other one carefully caressing her cheek. Jemma’s eyes keep fluttering shut.

“Stay here, Jemma. Can you talk? Tell me something so you don’t fall asleep sweetheart.” 

A faint smile creeps onto her lips and she sighs.

“You remember your first day on the bus? You looked so… Uhf… So confused. Like a deer in headlights. Your van was there.”

“I remember,” Skye smiles down at her softly. It all seems like an eternity ago. It feels like she has known Jemma forever, and that forever might just come to a far to sudden end.

“And you met FitzSimmons and you were even more confused. But I hugged you. Or didn’t I? I can’t remember. I wanted to. You smell so nice.” 

“Thank you.” 

Jemma coughs again and her face distorts in pain. Her usually so adorable nose scrunch is now caused by something else and Skye wishes she’ll never see it for this reason again.

“I shouldn’t cough. It hurts. I loved you then already, Skye. I should have told you. I hope it’s not too late. I might die, you know.”

Jemma laughs throatily and coughs again. Skye’s heart misses a beat and she shakes her head furiously. She herself should have said something before. After the plane, after she got shot, after Fitz, after Hydra. She should’ve, but she never dared or found the right time.

“No! That’s not funny. You are not going to die, Jemma Simmons, do you hear me. I love you and you can’t leave me behind with Fitz and his monkeys, and Philinda. You are going to live, because there are so many more things to see and because I want to tell you this all when you’re not bleeding in my arms.” 

A single tear escapes from Jemma’s eye when Skye’s voice cracks with emotion, and she shakes her head slightly.

“I can’t promise you that I won’t die, Skye. I don’t feel so well.” 

“Then promise me you’ll try to stay alive.” 

“Okay. Yes. I’ll try. I promise.” 

Skye laughs shakily and nods. “I’ll try to save you.” 

* * *

Skye plays the images over and over again. The dull thud. The sigh. The tears. The cough. I love you. I love you. I love you.

She swallows hard and looks at her hands. Dried blood is caked on them and has turned black with the dust under her nails. There was so much blood.

Shouting. Coulson. The cough. The sigh. The pain written on her face. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Skye mouths the words while thinking them, her breath shaking, her mouth salivating because of the threatening tears.

Someone sits down next to her, lays a hand on her shoulder for a few seconds, but says nothing. It’s May, she knows that. 

“I’m so scared,” Skye whispers.

“I know. Me too.” 

Skye fidgets with her fingers, but doesn’t move other than that. 

The helicopter’s blades. Whook-whook-whook. Jemma’s shallow heartbeat. Thud… Thud… Thud… Panic. Panic in Skye’s eyes. I love you. I love you. I love you. 

Two doors slide open and eight people stand up simultaneously when a doctor in scrubs walks in. No news. More surgery. More tears.

It’s all a blur. She has no idea how long they have been sitting there. 

* * *

It’s a soft and steady beep. Skye stares at the monitor for hours on end. Occasionally at her fingers that are intertwined with Jemma’s. Easy breathing on her own. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Skye breathes it against Jemma’s warm hands when she rests her forehead there, tears dropping on the sheets.

She still has no idea how long she’s sitting there or if she’s slept at all. She ate some and drank some coffee when brought to her by Coulson. 

* * * 

It’s a weird, but pleasant sensation that wakes Skye from what must be the most uncomfortable position in the book. 

Her nose is pressed into hospital sheets, lips caught on skin and fingers entangled in fingers. But not the fingers that are slowly threading through her hair.

Steady beeping. She jolts upright and blinks hard.

“Hello sleepyhead.” 

The voice sounds chalky and dry, but it feels like home and is music to her ears. 

“Jem,” Skye says breathlessly when her heart skips a beat and she suddenly feels a bit dizzy. 

“Hello, Skye.”

“Hi,” Skye sighs when she sees the lightest of blushes on her cheeks. “Oh thank god you’re alive.” Tears are welling up in Skye’s eyes again and she presses a soft kiss to Jemma’s hand. 

“I promised you I’d try.” 

Skye just nods, too overwhelmed to say anything, bringing Jemma’s hand up to her face, who strokes her cheek with her thumb. 

“I love you, Skye.”

“I love you, too. I’m going to kiss the heck out of you when you’ve fully healed.”

Jemma laughs then, until her face distorts.  
“Uhf. No making me laugh. It hurts.” 

“Sorry, love,” Skye chuckles and stands up to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll try.”


End file.
